


The Art of Losing

by lauraschiller



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Crew as Family, Emperor Georgiou complicates matters even in her absence, Episode: s03e09 Terra Firma, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Kelpiens as Prey, Mirror Universe (Star Trek), Saru is an empathic soul, references to slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28151898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lauraschiller/pseuds/lauraschiller
Summary: Michael has a lot to process after returning from Dannus V. Saru helps her through it. (This story has been cross-posted on FF.net.)
Relationships: Michael Burnham & Mirror Philippa Georgiou, Michael Burnham & Saru, Mirror Philippa Georgiou & Saru
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	The Art of Losing

When Michael Burnham returned from Dannus V alone, her face and manner gave nothing away about the outcome of her mission. In fact, as she walked into Saru’s ready room, she looked more like Ambassador Sarek’s daughter than she had for weeks since they’d found each other in this century: hands behind her back, face inscrutable. She gave her report in the same manner, even the more peculiar parts of it, such as the door in the middle of nowhere or the mysterious entity known as Carl. The most salient point of the report, however, was something Saru had guessed all along – namely, that Emperor Georgiou had walked through that door and Michael had let her go.

“I’m sorry,” he said, when she was finished. 

“Are you really, sir?” Michael’s tone was still even, her posture controlled, but Saru’s Kelpien senses told him that anger was rolling off her in waves. “After the way you talked at the briefing, I’d have thought you’d be pleased.”

He should have known this argument would happen. Michael was the most loyal woman in the universe, but she was loyal to individuals, not to groups. She had tunnel vision where her loved ones were concerned; if one of them was in distress, she forgot everything and everyone else around her in order to help that person. This made her an admirable friend, daughter, sister and lover, but a most unsuitable officer. Why she’d ever enlisted in the first place was a mystery, unless it had been Sarek’s idea.

“All I said,” Saru reminded her, “Was that _Discovery_ had, and still has, the chance to protect entire planetary systems from the Emerald Chain. We need to keep things in perspective.”

“You just want to impress Vance.”

“Admiral Vance is a reasonable man. He did give you permission to assist Georgiou, as I’m sure you remember.”

“And if he hadn’t?” Michael shot back. “Would you have let Philippa die? Is proving yourself to the authorities more important to you than a crew member’s life?”

There was so much wrong with that statement, Saru didn’t know where to begin, but no. He was not about to let Michael provoke him into another of their arguments – unless …

Unless provocation was exactly what she needed.

She always responded to loss with anger. When their universe’s Captain Georgiou – the real one, as Saru still thought of her – had been killed, Michael’s first instinct had been to avenge her. When it came out that Leland had been in charge of the time travel project that had killed Michael’s father and thrown her mother into the future, Michael had broken Leland’s nose. Maybe if she didn’t let out her anger on Saru, it would only fester inside her and break out in some other, more dangerous way. She’d be a ticking time bomb, and as a captain, Saru couldn’t afford that on his ship. Maybe it was better to detonate her, so to speak, right now. 

“Very well, Commander,” he said, bracing himself against the sleek surface of his recently upgraded desk. “If you must know how I really felt about the Emperor, that woman made my skin crawl. She was cruel to Ensign Tilly, and every time she looked at me, I had the feeling she was picturing my ganglia between her chopsticks. I did not want her dead, but I cannot say I was sorry to see her leave.” 

“She saved our lives, Captain!” Michael burst out, raising her voice for the first time since entering the room, which was a considerable relief. “More than once! She defeated Control, she protected you and Tilly on that ice world, she helped me and Book get the third black box - ”

“I know,” Saru retorted, “I will not deny her usefulness as a shipmate, nor her obvious affection for you, but she was not our Philippa Georgiou. You might have been able to believe you had our Captain back, but I could smell the difference.”

“I’m not an idiot,” she snarled. “I know exactly who the Emperor was and what she was capable of. It’s because she wasn’t the Captain that I saved her. The other Michael betrayed her, did I ever tell you that? She assumed I’d do the same thing, like I did with the Captain at the Battle of the Binaries. I wanted to prove her _wrong_.”

She slammed her hand down on Saru’s desk, which responded with a confused scattering of silvery programmable matter before smoothing out again.

Wasn’t that typical of Michael, to go through hell to rescue someone in order to prove them wrong? 

“You certainly did that,” said Saru. “More than once, if I recall. First you saved her from Lorca, and now from the effects of quantum-temporal displacement.”

“You can’t know that.” Underneath the anger, Michael’s voice was starting to crack with the effort of holding back tears. “I can’t know that. There was no way of finding out what was on the other side of that door. I couldn’t get a straight answer out of Carl. For all I know, I could’ve sent her to her death.”

 _Or sentenced untold numbers of my people to theirs,_ Saru thought grimly. 

The idea of sending the Emperor back to her native time and universe was the lesser of two evils, but not by much. Georgiou, never one to miss an opportunity to strike someone’s weak points, had told him quite early on how Kelpiens lived in the Terran Empire. It made him sick. At least the Ba’ul had left them alone until the _vahar’ai_ came. He couldn’t even imagine having to serve the same people who would one day eat him. How did his counterpart endure it – if he was even still alive? And what if sending Georgiou back meant condemning other Kelpiens to that fate, who might otherwise have lived?

He couldn’t think about that any further, though. Not only because it would damage his mental health, but because it would be definitely unhelpful to Michael. If he spoke his thoughts out loud, they would cross the line from having a straightforward argument to saying things they would both regret. 

In any case, one missing emperor was never enough to change the whole empire. If the mirror universe’s Kelpiens were ever to be freed, they would have to free themselves.

“You are not alone, Michael,” he said instead. “Everyone on board is struggling with uncertainty. Many of us never found out what happened to our loved ones when we left. We made that choice to protect them, just as you did. Now, all we can do is hope for the best.”

He followed her gaze out the viewport, where the tangible results of their choice to travel forward in time could be seen: 31st-century ships of all shapes and sizes flying to and fro, as the force field that surrounded Federation HQ flickered to accommodate them. They were sleek and bright and powerful-looking, but he wondered if he’d ever get used to them.

Then he saw that Michael’s thin shoulders were shaking, and it drove all thoughts of ships out of his mind. He rounded the desk in three long strides and held out his hands. “May I … ?”

She had her arms around his waist and her face pressed against his chest before he could finish the sentence. Her personality always made you forget how small she was, but from this vantage, it was impossible not to notice. He stroked her long braided hair and hummed the Song of Memory, as Siranna had done for him after their mother’s death.

“I … I don’t … ” she gasped, between muffled sobs. “I don’t know if I can move on again, Saru. Every time … when does it stop?”

Well might she ask. First her parents, then Captain Georgiou, then Tyler – twice – then her adopted family and literally everyone she’d ever known except her shipmates on _Discovery_. The Emperor, with all her faults, must have been one of the last points of familiarity Michael had left. Saru could understand that. He wouldn’t miss the woman personally, but he had to admit she would have been a good ally against someone like Osyraa. Besides, it would be strange never to hear that Malaysian accent again, see that long ponytail whip around a corner, or meet those sharp black eyes in a debate. It brought back the loss of their own Georgiou in ways that were only just beginning to sink in.

“I wish I knew, my friend,” Saru murmured over the top of Michael’s head. 

“I almost … followed her,” she croaked. “I was this close.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you decided to return.”


End file.
